The Gothic King
by loosedefense
Summary: As a senior, Troy signs Gabriella and himself up for another musical so that he can grow closer to her, but as the days go by, he finds himself noticing an almost apathetic Ryan Evans more and more. Troy x Ryan slash [TRYAN]
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** You should know before you read this that I have never actually watched _High School Musical_ or _High School Musical 2_ aside from a few scenes and trailers played on TV as promotion, and as such am not completely familiar with the characters of the show, which may result in some inconsistencies in personalities. But the hotness that is Zac Efron has caused me check out some stories on the fandom here, and with that said, I do feel that I have the general gist of the show and with Wikipedia and the fics that I've read so far as guides, I think I can do a fair job of keeping everyone in character. I hope you like this attempt.

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"Well, Mister Bolton, Miss Montez," Miss Darbus surveys them disapprovingly over the rim of her glasses, one hand clutching her clipboard tightly, "I must say your performances so far have been completely – and utterly – lacking. Unless the two of you manage to capture that striking chemistry you shared during the production of _Twinkle Towne_, and soon, I will have no choice but to award the lead roles to Mister and Miss Evans."

Sharpay and Ryan are standing off to the side of the stage, far enough to be out of the drama teacher's range of fire but close enough that Troy can see the delighted little grin Sharpay is unable to keep off her face out of the corner of his eye.

"We'll try harder, Miss Darbus," Gabriella assures meekly, her big brown eyes full of sincerity.

"See that you do," Darbus huffs and stalks away. It's a signal that rehearsals are over for the day when she does not return to her seat, so the cast members separate. Sharpay skips after the drama teacher, her brother Ryan following close behind but stopping awkwardly and shifting directions not fast enough when she lands right in her boyfriend's waiting arms. Gabriella is slowly picking up her books, and after a moment of standing rooted on the spot he'd been left in, Troy joins her at her side.

"Are you coming over later?" Gabriella asks without taking her eyes off the folder she tends to hold in the crook of her arm. Troy shakes his head, knowing she's watching anyway. "I'm due back home. My dad wants extra drills since we're doing the musical again." When Gabriella doesn't immediately reply, he's quick to add, "But maybe we can get together this weekend? You know, to rehearse?"

Gabriella breaks out into a grin. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"So what are you going to do tonight?" Troy inquires.

Gabriella's already started walking away so he strides to catch up. "I'm calling Taylor over so that we can plan what to do for the yearbook. Last year they had some really beautiful designs, but the content was little bare, so we're thinking of ways to spice it up."

Troy can't help but smile. Beautiful girl – so hardworking, so congenial. She couldn't even bring herself to say that last year's yearbook sucked.

Taylor's waiting outside the school paper's office, so Troy leans down and presses a soft kiss to his girlfriend's cheek, and they share a smile before he heads off. Taylor and Gabriella chatter happily as enter to gather some supplies; Troy gets in his car alone silently cursing his father and Darbus and Taylor for eating up time better spent making out in Gabriella's room. When he had convinced Gabi to try out for their year-end _musicale_, just as a last laugh before they left East High for good, he had been hoping for some time with her; but rather than recapture the magic they'd had on the stage before, like Darbus and Troy both wanted, rehearsal felt empty and dull. If Gabriella had noticed it or was bothered by it, she didn't let on; she's perfectly content with the absolute rut they're stuck in, it seems to Troy.

Troy's father's not happy with the developments either. "Come on, Troy, you know this move!" he shouts when Troy slips up on the complicated fake-out they had created.

"I'm trying, dad," Troy snaps, annoyed. Jack Bolton gets into stance and asks, "Is this about that musical? Troy, you gotta give two hundred percent here. It's basketball first, remember? I don't want you jeopardizing your chance for a scholarship."

"Yes, dad, I know," Troy replies. He had promised to drop out of the play if it interfered with basketball again. They couldn't take any chances since they were banking on Troy getting that scholarship. "It's not the musical."

His father nods, and they get back to the game. Jack wants to add another hour of practice, but Troy's mother reminds them that they weren't to play in the dark, and dinner would be served soon anyway, so go and wash up.

After dinner, Troy lies on his bed, wondering if he ought to call Gabi or let her work uninterrupted. He can't make up his mind and debates this until its eleven o'clock at night and too late to call anyway, so settles for sending her a message which she responds in under a minute with _ilu2_.

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Ryan is watching Troy with bored eyes while he practices the new song with Kelsi. Troy shifts his weight from one foot to the other feeling the blonde's icy-blue eyes on him and tries to focus on the song. Ryan has to be there not only because he's the understudy but because as the main choreographer, he insists on hearing the others sing the songs firsthand so he can visualize their movements.

Troy ends on a shaky note and Kelsi turns to Ryan to ask what he thinks. Ryan sighs, "It's alright, but I think it needs a little work."

"Oh?" she cocks her eyebrow.

"It's a little bit … sappy."

"Sappy?" Kelsi sounds affronted.

"It's too slow, it's too weepy, and it hasn't got the charm to pull that off," Ryan explains. "Look, don't you think it would sound better just a smidgen faster?"

Now it's Troy's turn to cock an eyebrow. He thought 'sappy' was exactly the kind of sound guys like Ryan go for.

"There's that big jazz number in the song before this – couldn't you just incorporate some of the melody in and call this a reprise?"

Kelsi blinks. "But – but it's a slow song. And a full-length one."

Ryan shrugs carelessly. "It's up to you, of course. It's just that if it were me, I'd cut it down a few bars, just up the tempo a little bit to sound reminiscent of the jazz number – not as upbeat, but not so mellow that it goes through one ear and out the other."

Kelsi's considering it. Troy knows she'll try because she's probably one of the few people around here who doesn't have too much of a hard time swallowing their pride. She nods and turns to the piano and plays around with the keys, trying to strike a balance between the previous number and a distinctive trait to mix it in with. She makes a satisfied sound and nods excitedly.

After rehearsal, which is just between the three of them that day, Troy goes backstage to pick up the books he dropped off in the small dressing room. There aren't very many rooms back here, just one utility closet and one other slightly bigger that's used for storage most of the time and cleared only for productions. Ryan's already in there leaning against one of the boxes the drama class has yet to move out with his fingers flying over the keypad of his phone. He glances up briefly when Troy comes in and closes the door behind him.

"Great work today," Troy says, scooping up his textbooks. "Kelsi thinks the suggestion you gave for the ballad could work."

Ryan grunts, not lifting his eyes from his cellphone. "Thanks. You wanna go over choreography tomorrow?"

Troy runs his fingers through his hair. "Oh, I have basketball practice," he informs. Ryan nods. "When do you want to go over them?"

"Before the end of the week," Ryan says. "Sharpay wants to go over our duet with me this weekend."

"Your duet? You mean mine and Gabriella's?" Ryan nods.

"You're welcome to join us if you want," he offers Troy. "It would make more sense to include you two so you can see what to do anyway."

"Are you sure we're welcome in Sharpay Evans' house?" Troy smirks.

Ryan's lips twist in humor. "No – but it'll be fun watching her try to choose between kicking you out and keeping Gabriella in."

They share appreciative chuckles, then Troy bids him goodbye as he goes to meet up with Gabriella. She's an excited bundle in his arms as she reaches up to kiss him hello, and he grins at this welcome change. "Taylor and I came up with some great ideas last night," she announces. "We're going create this whole new set of titles to award people this year."

She goes on to explain that terms like 'Class Clown' are old hat, and that they're completely reinventing the titles for something a little more 'modern'. Troy doesn't really get it. He thinks labeling someone 'Prankster President' is hardly anything worth bragging about, but keeps his opinion to himself. He thinks Gabriella is wasting her time; nobody expects her to reformat the yearbook – they're just going to scribble little notes and autographs on them and toss them into a pile to rot – but he doesn't say that either.

"Ryan's invited us over to his house this weekend," he tells her when they reach his car, "so that we can go over the moves for the duet."

Gabriella nods. "Okay. I have to say, Troy, I'm really surprised how dedicated you are to this musical."

"What?" Troy laughs. "I'm always dedicated to the musical."

"You've only done _Twinkle Towne_ so far," Gabriella reminds him. "I thought it would be a one-time thing, but it's nice to see you're into it. I know this is a hard year for you."

"Yeah, well," Troy flashes her a rakish grin, "it's how we got together, I figured it was only proper to take part in the last one that would come our way, you know?"

Gabriella is taken with that and leans over to give him a chaste kiss, and they drive the rest of the way to her house in silence.

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Rehearsals are not going as planned. Troy's getting most of the moves right with Ryan's help, but the one-and-a-half hours they have to rehearse on days when Troy isn't due at basketball practice is hardly enough time for him to even recall half the complicated steps Ryan's come up with let alone perform them on his own, and on top of that, he has speaking lines to memorize and the months he's let go by without singing has reduced his voice more significantly than he could have imagined. And Miss Darbus was _still_ harping on the lack of sparks between Gabriella and himself. So he feels very grateful standing outside the door of the Evans luxurious house on Saturday morning, ready to put some work in.

Sharpay opens the door, dressed in a blue flannel robe over loose silk pajamas, and stares at them stupidly. She slams the door in their faces, then after a few moments opens it again slowly. Her hair looks as though she ran her fingers through it and it's tossed to one side. "_Troy!_" she greets, drawing his name out. Her eyes shift to his right and her voice turns a little more distasteful, "Gabriella."

"Hi, Sharpay," Troy nods. "Is Ryan here?"

"Ryan? Yeah, he's in the kitchen," Sharpay says. "I didn't know you were coming over – I'm not usually dressed like this…"

"Ryan invited us," Gabriella tells her, slipping in past the blonde and eyeing the beautiful décor. "To practice for the musical?"

Sharpay stares at her blankly, and then her face begins to contort. All too familiar with the girl's 'rage issues', Troy holds up his hands and soothes her, "I'm sure Ryan just forgot to mention it. Actually, I was the one who asked him to fit us in – basketball practice and all."

Sharpay immediately softens. "Oh, of course, Troy," she chirps. "Why don't the both of you go wait in the kitchen with Ryan, I'll be back in something a little more appropriate."

They can hear her feet pounding up the stairs as they enter the kitchen. There are no cereal boxes or cartons of milk to be seen. A plain piece of toast is on a small plate, and Ryan is sitting adjacent to it munching on a grapefruit quarter. When he catches sight of Troy and Gabriella, he jumps to his feet, pulling the half-eaten slice away. "Hey, guys," he says. "I didn't realize you'd be here so soon."

"We tried to call, but you didn't pick up," Troy explains. "I thought we could come over to see if you were busy now; we can come back…"

"No, no, it's okay," Ryan waves them in to sit with him at the table. He's wearing a loose pair of shorts and a simple grey T-shirt, dressed in a more simplistic way than what Troy had ever seen him in before. It's nice to know that even Ryan's abysmal taste in clothes have days off. "Have you made any improvements yet?"

"The feedback is getting better," Gabriella offers. "Miss Darbus is still on our backs about the chemistry between us. I don't know what she expects us to do; the chemistry seems just fine to me." 

Troy averts his eyes, and soon they hear a strange loud _click_ing growing louder and louder. It can only be Sharpay in—

"High heels, Sharpay?" Ryan asks skeptically. His sister is dressed in a full-on slinky dress complete with a pair of fancy black high-heeled shoes. Gabriella's eyebrows are raised when she notices the height of them. Sharpay tilts her head nonchalantly.

"Better get all the practice I can with them," she says. "Oh, Gabriella, you should have brought yours too. We wouldn't want you to fall and break your neck onstage. I would lend you a pair of mine, but I don't think I have anything that you'd be able to fit into."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "I doubt Miss Darbus expects anyone to dance in high heels, Sharpay."

She turns wide eyes on him. "Presentation is everything, Ryan. You should know that. What would it look like if the beautiful lead trolled about the stage in a pair of dirty old sneakers?" Her eyes glide down to the scuffed and worn pair of shoes Gabriella's wearing, and Troy sees a hint of a smirk on her face even though her lips don't visibly move.

"Don't worry, Sharpay, Gabriella can catch up next time," he pipes up, his eyes gleaming. "If I have to, I'll work with her even closer to make sure she gets all the rehearsal she needs."

Gabriella smiles at him gratefully and Sharpay's eyes go cold. Ryan's laughing under his breath, and ushers them out of the kitchen and into the big room their parents had built to serve as a dance studio (or for jam sessions as Ryan's father had described it back when he had hoped Ryan would pick up an instrument other than the piano and the flute).

Rehearsals don't go as smoothly as Troy had hoped it would; Sharpay's on one side of him, Gabriella the other, both standing so close that it's only when Ryan points out that they need space to move do they give him so breathing room. Kelsi's managed to record a low-quality MP3 of the song which Ryan has stored in his iPod, which is hooked up to a pair of enormous speakers, and they watch as he goes through several steps in guidance. Gabriella's trying to imitate his hand movements and keep her eyes on his feet; Troy's feeling a pang of worry in his heart at the thought of having to carry out all these steps onstage; Sharpay's smirking and twisting a lock of her hair with one finger, her eyes following her brother's quick feet. Ryan stops after shuffling to his right and turns to them expectantly.

More because he has nothing to say and isn't particularly eager to imitate those steps, Troy claps enthusiastically, which is picked up by Gabriella, and eventually Sharpay, who rolls her eyes. Ryan gives a sardonic smile and says, "Thank you, but I was actually looking for you guys to pick up where I left off."

"Uh, Ryan, not all of us have been dancing ever since we were, like, three," Troy says doubtfully. "I'm kinda rusty."

"No problem," Ryan allows, "we'll go through them slowly. Put your right foot out like this…"

And they spend the next few hours going through several more steps, starting out slow then picking up speed and adding more moves into the mix. Sharpay punctuates the silence with cries of "Ow! Ryan!" and "Do we have to do it so fast? My feet are killing me," and "Troy, I think I hurt my foot," before she decides to just forget the flirting and tosses her heels off so she can get down to business.

They spend the whole day there, at the Evans household, and in the evening they collapse against the wall, tired but exhilarated and breathing heavily. "I think we just about got it," Ryan comments approvingly. Sharpay just glares, massaging her complaining feet, but Troy and Gabriella throw their heads back in joy. "Would you guys like to have dinner here?"

The couple share a look, then Troy nods. He can't afford to take Gabriella out tonight anyway, so they'd probably end up eating dinner alone in their respective homes. Ryan leads them up to the kitchen. Their parents aren't home yet, even though it's past six and closer to seven, but Troy doesn't question it. Long hours built houses as nice as this.

Dinner appears to be leftovers. Ryan pulls out bowls of peas and chicken from the refrigerator and sets them in the microwave.

Troy cannot remember the last time he ate dinner that hadn't been just cooked by his mother.

Sharpay chatters up a storm while they eat, interjecting the topics she brought up with thinly-veiled hints about how cute Troy would look with a blonde on his arm. Troy looks to Ryan for help, but Ryan is only smiling indulgently, and when Troy reaches for Gabriella's hand as a show of solidarity, he notices something wistful in Ryan's blue eyes.

When they're ready to leave – Gabriella's mother wants her home by nine and Troy wants to spend some time alone with her before then – the twins walk them to the door. Sharpay waves jovially and Ryan raises a hand in goodbye. Gabriella's already walking away, telling them it was nice hanging out over her shoulder, so he quickly suggests, "Same time tomorrow?"

Ryan agrees, and there's no question how Sharpay feels about having Troy Bolton in her house two nights in a row, but when Troy hurries to catch up with his girlfriend he couldn't help notice that Ryan is grinning just as hard as his sister when he closes the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I forgot this the last time, and just so I don't get in trouble, I'll just go through the routine here. I make no money off this story, and don't claim to own the franchise or the characters or the actors or the sets or blah blah blah.

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Gabriella is growing more distant all the time. Troy spends hours with her in his car every day, and mostly they sit in silence that is not awkward, but not the kind of silence that is peaceful either. They kiss, not as much as Troy would like, but they do. They don't talk about anything important, although Troy supposes that to Gabriella the yearbook committee is important, but their conversations are nothing like the ones they used to have. Troy mourns. If it were anyone else, making out and avoiding words would be an ideal situation for a boy his age, but Gabriella is the most important person in his life, way above his parents and his friends. It used to be that they would look into each others eyes and drop everything to reveal their deepest fears and doubts. Now they just sit and stare at the moon.

Troy's not the only one to notice this change. Darbus brings it up every rehearsal, and as long as Sharpay thinks she's got a chance, she keeps picking at this little hitch in their relationship. Ryan's quickly turning out to be the only normal person Troy can bear to be around anymore. He doesn't comment on Troy's relationship with Gabriella – Troy's not even sure if Ryan's aware, or cares. There are a lot of things Ryan doesn't care about, Troy finds out. He doesn't keep up with the gossip, probably because he's got no one except Sharpay to keep him up-to-date; he shakes his head blankly when Troy talks about people around school he thought everybody knew' he doesn't even follow any of the new releases – if it's not a musical, then it's some black-and-white movie Troy's never even heard of before, although Ryan doesn't seem to be able to believe that.

"So beautiful," Ryan croons when Elizabeth Taylor's face fills the screen. Troy shrugs. She really is quite lovely, but surely there must be someone more appealing today.

They're watching a DVD because Ryan's tired of musicals. "Just a day off," he'd said in school, "I think I deserve one before things start getting really crazy." Troy decides to join him anyway, because Gabriella didn't think twice about using this free time to get together with her group, and he wasn't looking forward to dodging questions from the team after practice. All he asked was that Ryan not tell Sharpay that he was coming over. Ryan assured him she'd be spending her free time at the mall.

"Do you spend all your time watching this stuff?" Troy questions now.

"Of course not," Ryan doesn't take his eyes off the screen. "I dance most of the time – see…" he raises a leg to rest on Troy's lap, a mischievous grin on his face. Troy is quick to shove it away, but he does see. Ryan's leg is nicely muscled, different from his own which have been developed by years of basketball.

They spend the day on the couch, one old movie after another, and Troy's surprised to find he's actually enjoying himself. He's not really paying attention to what's going on the screen half the time, and for a large part, ignores Ryan who's too captivated by the tube to notice. Troy likes stretching out against the Evans' luxurious couch and drifting away into nothingness while occasionally amusing himself with the images shadows paint on the wall. It's this kind of relaxation that makes him realize just how tired he truly is, and how long this break's been coming.

Eventually night falls, and Troy checks his phone to see if he's received any messages from his parents or Gabriella, but there are none. Ryan turns off the television and gets to his feet before half-turning his body to face Troy. "I'm going to set dinner," he informs.

"Mind if I join you?" Troy asks listlessly. He's in no mood to go home, and chances are his father will want to practice basketball before they eat if they go back now anyway, and he's been doing so well not thinking about sports all day it would be a shame to ruin it now. Ryan nods and agrees, so Troy gets up to help him set the table.

It strikes him odd how meticulously Ryan goes about the job; there's a place for five people around the table, although to Troy's knowledge, it will only be him and Ryan, and possibly Sharpay if she comes home in time with an empty stomach. He asks Ryan if his parents are joining them, and Ryan replies, "I would doubt it."

It's rude to ask any more, so Troy doesn't. Once everything is complete – only two glasses are filled wih cold water – the two boys sit down and begin to dig in. Ryan is cutting his food with perfect execution and this prompts Troy to try and refine himself a bit more. He feels like he would taking Gabriella out to a fancy restaurant, but Ryan is completely at ease and does not appear to be making any extra effort to impress him.

"Thanks for letting me stay," Troy remembers to tell his host for being so gracious. "I just didn't feel like going home right now."

"Don't worry about it," Ryan waves off. "Problems at home?"

"No," Troy shrugs. "You know how it is, sometimes you just need to get away from the folks."

Ryan's eyes do a quick survey of the empty room. "Yes, I imagine so," his tone is somewhat cold, and Troy feels instantly bad. "Why not go to Gabriella's then? You haven't been with her all day."

Troy chews the inside of his cheek, unsure whether he should say anything else that would be deemed offensive; then again, Ryan's not likely to find insult in girlfriend problems, and Troy's dying to voice his worries. The Evans boy's been a good distraction for the day – is it possible that he would also be a better listener than Troy's friends and family proved to be? Heavily, he sighs, "Gabi and I are … in a weird place right now."

Ryan raises his eyebrows and waits for him to continue.

Troy feels a rush of frustration, realizing he's not completely sure _what's_ wrong with them enough to tell the other boy, but though he contemplates abandoning it, he changes his mind and decides to say what he can anyway, if for nothing more than to just get it off his chest.

"It's like I don't know her anymore – no, not that I don't know her, it's like I don't know what's happened to us." Words are slipping away quickly, so he hastens to get it all out. "Gabi and I – we were really something when we started out, you know? We really shook each others lives up. But now, now we don't have anything, we don't _do_ anything."

He doesn't know how else to say what's on his mind, but there's just _so_ much more, things that he realizes now that he may never get out. Ryan's watching him pensively. "Sounds to me like you're in a rut."

"What?"

"You said it yourself – you shook each others lives up when you got together; in fact, you shook up the entire school. But now, everything's …comfortable."

"Doesn't seem very comfortable," Troy mutters, but even so he realizes that Ryan could very well be right. Absently, he nods his head. "If comfortable isn't working for me, what does that say about us?"

Ryan shrugs nonchalantly. "Maybe you need to break up."

Troy stares. "Jesus – quick and easy, huh?"

"Like ripping off a band-aid," Ryan smirks. "But if you have a problem with that idea, maybe it means you don't completely disagree with being attached to her."

"Of course I don't disagree. I love her. What I can't stand is that there's no … fire – well, there's always fire," he amends when Ryan cocks his eyebrow, "but it can't—"

"Hold a candle?" Ryan smirks. Troy snorts humorlessly.

They sit there in silence. Troy runs his tongue against his teeth.

"So, is there any particular reason you're avoiding home, then?" Ryan breaks the silence.

"Is that a hint that you want me to leave you alone?" Troy shoots back.

"Definitely not," Ryan grins. His own teeth are brilliantly white, Troy notes.

"I'm not even sure there is anything wrong at home," he says. "Maybe there isn't. Maybe there's nothing wrong with me and Gabriella. Maybe I'm just an attention whore looking for someone with a passing interest."

"You've certainly got my interest," Ryan declares. "I never thought I'd hear Troy Bolton talk about himself in a self-depreciating manner."

"Someone's got to," Troy says darkly.

"This is starting to sound like the kind of talk that requires alcohol," Ryan comments.

"You offering any?" Troy asks somewhat hopefully.

"I think its trashy to drink outside of a party," Ryan replies. Troy wants to make a comment about a party for two, but somehow, that's just a bit more suggestive than he's comfortable saying to a man who likes to sleep with men.

"My father annoys me," he blurts instead. He pauses, then says, "Really, really annoys me. I think I'd prefer not having to deal with him at all."

Ryan looks as though he's thinking about what to say, but at that moment they hear the door slam shut and Sharpay holler, _"I'm home!"_

"And that's the end for today's session," Ryan jokes. "Good work today, Mister Bolton, let's pick it up next week."

"How about tomorrow instead?" Troy proposes as Ryan walks him to the door. Ryan looks surprised by this, but nods. "If you want to," he says.

Troy isn't sure he wants to; he could easily be over this level of comfort he and Ryan have discovered with each other today by the time he wakes up. After all, he's about to divulge some pretty deep feelings about the beloved Coach Bolton. But he decides to wait and see how he feels about it. He's sure Ryan won't mind if he cancels the plan at the last minute if he doesn't feel up to it.

When he gets home, his parents are watching television. He closes the door quietly behind him, and they turn around.

"Where were you?" his father demands instantly.

"I was at a friend's," he says.

"Troy, this is the second time you've missed practicing with me," Jack states accusatorily. "You missed dinner too."

"I already ate."

"You couldn't call?" Jack asks.

"Dad, I'm sorry I didn't call," Troy says, annoyance taking over his voice. "I doubt either of you were waiting too long for me to come back anyway." He makes to go to his room. His father's eyes flash, but he allows Troy to leave, and turns back and wraps his arm around Troy's mother again. Troy slams his bedroom door shut.

His father has been getting on his nerves more than usual. It's not anything he's done – nothing out of the ordinary anyway. Troy knows it's him; his patience is running thin, with his parents, with his friends, with basketball. If he doesn't get a break soon and find some way to reign his feelings in, he's going to explode. The worst part is that there's no way to pinpoint what has changed. He supposes it's the constant pressure, any idiot who's walked the halls of East High the past four years would have some inkling as to the kind of pressure Troy has on his shoulders. He's the king of the school, the most godlike inspiration they've had in years, and one doesn't receive that kind of honor without an intensely heavy load to bear, and Troy is growing sick and tired of all of it.

He wonders if he could have told Ryan all of this. It's so hard to say any of it because even though he has some degree of understanding about how he's losing his ability to cope, it's next to impossible to put it into words. Words don't convey the frustration he feels.

His dad insists on driving him to school the next day. Troy knows he's going to get an earful, and mildly wishes there were some way he could play his iPod without his father noticing. But there's nothing to be done about it, so after breakfast, the two Boltons get into the car and pull out of the driveway. Jack hasn't even turned the car before he begins his lecture. Troy holds his sigh in, and tunes out most of it, keeping only enough presence of mind to nod at the right time and look appropriately ashamed of himself.

"I mean, for God's sake, Troy, how do you expect to win those scouts over if you don't keep up with practice? _Get your head in the game, remember?_ This is the crucial period; I need you to be on point – the _team_ needs you to be on point…"

Troy feels like screaming. This is the exact same speech he's been hearing ever since he was in middle school. How are you going to make the varsity team if you don't practice now, Troy? How are you going to become captain if you don't step up your game, Troy? How are you going to win that championship if you don't put in the time, Troy? It's enough to make him want to tear his hair out.

By the time Jack parks the car, Trey's certain some vital organ has experienced a rupture from the monumental effort it took to keep his mouth shut. He's silently denouncing Jack Bolton as his father in his head when he steps out of the car and slams the door shut before the older man can even unbuckle his seatbelt. He hears Jack calling his name, but doesn't slow down his stride.

Gabriella's waiting for him by his locker, and if possible, his mood becomes even worse at the sight of her. This is the sort of gesture most couples would do for each other, but with Gabriella is just serves to highlight the problems he had discussed with Ryan the previous night. They do it because it's done, not because its something they think to do for each other for the sake of doing something for each other. It's filled with the sort of emptiness he fears his relationship with Gabriella is quickly becoming.

She immediately asks him what's wrong when she notices the scowl on his face. He just shakes his head and opens his locker, internally cursing himself for wearing his feelings so openly like that. Gabriella lets it go, and begins chattering about the science homework they're meant to give in today. Troy's completely forgotten about it – he probably blocked it out of his head the second he left the science lab the day it was assigned – but he doesn't feel too bad about it.

Sharpay and Ryan make their way through the halls, the typical whispers that precede them alerting Troy to the fact that they were heading this way. Gabriella's been at East High long enough to recognize the signs too, and asks him brightly, "Going to Sharpay and Ryan's today?"

Troy guiltily remembers his father's rant about putting in more time practicing. He thinks he ought to skip today so they can work on his one-on-one game, but when he catches sight of Ryan, he feels a flash of defiance as he recalls the anger he'd held in just a few minutes ago and nods resolutely.

Sharpay sways her hips and barely spares them a glance. People all around are throwing the twins dirty looks and muttering to themselves about they hate them. Ryan follows his sister serenely, not taking any notice of what's being said, and even smirks and nods in greeting when he catches Troy's eye, and Troy can't help thinking 'That's nice.' He would probably crumble in under two seconds if he were subjected to that much malice. He thinks of the heavy frown that had been on his face as he entered the school, and how it would be just so much less troublesome if he had some of Ryan's incredible ability to let everything just slide off his back.

Closing his locker door shut, he wonders if Ryan could teach him some of his tricks.

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews. Please keep them coming. I'm glad you all liked the previous chapter. Let me know what you think.


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